They Were Red
by Scutellaria Laterifolia
Summary: Dunno if it's PG13, but just in case. Vincent is trying to find a way to revive Lucretia and Sephiroth, so that he can finally be happy. R&R please!
1. Bloody Tears

Author's Ramblings: This is when Lucretia gave birth to Sephiroth. I'm saying it's Vincent's child just for the sake of argument. Personally, I think it's more likely Hojo's. But anyway, this is just a thought I came across. It's Vincent x Lucretia, I guess. I think Lucretia died before Vincent got his claw, forms and eyes etc. but we're pretending that she didn't. She died while he was watching. Poor Vincent.  
  
They were red.  
  
I tried to ignore it, but Hojo just smiled and didn't turn off the video. It was like a sky on the most beautiful painting, suddenly splattered with blood, not red paint, but blood. I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to stay strong. I had to pretend I was indifferent. For the sake of the baby.  
  
But, oh Gods! They were red!  
  
His eyes were red, and his arm was a claw. It wasn't the claw that bothered me. It was his eyes. A single tear had welled up in the corner of his eye. He knew I was watching. He knew I was probably a few hours, maybe even minutes away from starting contractions and delivering this baby. His baby. Our baby. I don't know if Hojo knew, but I did. Something like mother's intuition, you might say.  
  
"Lucretia, beloved. I think it's time that we got you into a comfortable position with a nurse." Hojo prodded gently, although his tone was cold.  
  
I shook my head and continued to stare at Vincent and his red eyes. Why did Hojo have to do this? Why red? I wanted to collapse.  
  
"I-I want him to see." I said suddenly. "I want him there."  
  
Hojo tilted his head and arched a brow. His face was still in the same cold expression. "He can't see, darling." He said, as if speaking to a child. "He can only hear. It's as if he's blind at the moment. It'll pass, darling. It'll pass."  
  
I let myself fall to the floor. I WANTED HIM TO WATCH AS OUR CHILD WAS BORN! Gods damn it! Gods damn Hojo! I let the tears fall and turned my face to the video again. Vincent was crying, as if he could tell I was. His tears were slightly red, like he was crying blood. That sent me into fits of hysteria. Hojo kneeled down and started patting my back, trying to shush me and tell me that I had to watch it and make sure I didn't harm the baby.  
  
"I want him to watch!" I nearly screamed at Hojo. "I want him there," I added, in a much quieter voice.  
  
"I can't let him out." Hojo said, trying to be gentle, but his fingers on my shoulder had latched in a grip that said he wasn't going to go. "You can have it right in front of him for all I care. He won't see you."  
  
"I don't care." I said.  
  
Vincent's face was distressed and distorted in what seemed pain. It was right then that my contractions started.  
  
"Oh shit!" I cursed. "Hojo! Get me in there!"  
  
The nurses who had been outside the door helped me to my feet and onto the gurney they'd set up. Hojo gave them instructions that they quirked an eyebrow at, but didn't question. I was zoomed to the room that Vincent was in. Hojo was jogging behind, the sick twisted little man.  
  
They transferred me onto some other bed-like contraption that was covered in towels. My legs opened automatically and the nurses were telling me to push. Vincent was crying.  
  
"Push!"  
  
I heaved and heaved. The pain was absolutely horrid. I screamed and cried, but it wasn't just from the pain of birthing, but also from the tearing of my heart. Vincent was screaming too, I couldn't tell why. He'd always told me that he was a clairvoyant, that he could see things if they chose to let him see it. It didn't come often, but when it did it was either something major, important enough to change a life, or something minor, like what someone would have for breakfast, or when someone would stub their toe. Lately it had gotten much more frequent, he kept me well informed. He could predict so many things right before they happened.  
  
But his eyes were red.  
  
He was screaming, and so was I.  
  
Hojo was yelling at someone to shut Vincent up. I couldn't hear what he was saying, until Vincent went slack for a brief moment and then began screaming even louder.  
  
"Don't let her die!" He yelled. "Don't get the mako near her!"  
  
Mako? The thought barely left my mind when a needle was jabbed somewhere near my birthing region. I yelped at the added pain, feeling liquid frost seeping through my body and surely the baby's too.  
  
Vincent screamed. "Don't die! NO! DON'T LET HER DIE!"  
  
I wondered at the horrid prediction. The baby was pulled from me and the umbilical cord was cut. I didn't get to hold my baby as I felt the frost sweeping upwards, to my head.  
  
My eyes wanted to close, to let myself die. I didn't fight it. If Vincent was seeing that then it would definitely happen, no matter what. I smiled softly and turned my head.  
  
"Sephiroth." I whispered to Hojo.  
  
He nodded and told the nurses that that was to be the child's name.  
  
As my eyes closed, the last thing I saw was Vincent. He had calmed down and two armed guards were holding him back. A single tear rolled down his face, faintly red. His eyes glittered like rubies. I didn't want to let go of the image.  
  
They were red. 


	2. To See The Future

To See The Future  
  
Gentle breezes tickled the sand and flew across the water, making tiny whirlwinds of aqua that evaporated into nothingness before the eye could guess they were even there. The sky was blue, and the few clouds that remained were mere sheets of white that seemed stretched like cotton. The trees quivered ever so slightly in the breeze and the shadows they cast stretched long into the beach, almost skimming the water. The atmosphere at Costa del Sol was peaceful and content, nestled by the stretches of white sand.  
  
But one figure crouched at the edge of the sand, looking aloof and distraught. His waist-long raven hair fell about him, held out of his face by a bandana and his eyes were closed in deep thought. His one arm was at his side, carefully skimming the sand, while the other, was held across his chest. It wasn't even a true arm, merely a poor steel imitation. But it was tougher than steel, and only the maker of it knew the true material of its making. The man had waxen skin that hadn't tanned in the sun at all. His face bore no emotion, only the expressionless luster of a dead man, though this man wasn't dead.  
  
The man, namely Vincent, was trying to catch a peaceful moment where no one disturbed him. The members of AVALANCHE had dragged him to Costa del Sol to get much needed rest, but he had gotten anything but. Why couldn't people understand that he just wanted to be left alone?  
  
"Hey, Vincent!" Cried the voice of the small, spunky brunette, Tifa. "Why aren't you partying with everyone else?"  
  
Vincent opened his eyes, revealing the shiny redness and fixed them on Tifa with a harsh glare that said clearly he'd like to be left alone. He didn't move from his crouched position or move his hands any, other than to pick up and idly toss sand with his real hand.  
  
Tifa, however, was either too dense to notice the hint, or pretended not to notice. She boldly sat down next to Vincent and stared into the distance in the direction of his eyes. She laughed, much to Vincent's dismay, and began mimicking his exact movements.  
  
"Stop." Vincent said simply.  
  
Tifa only giggled and mimicked again, with a perfect serious tone. "Stop." She said, simply copying what Vincent had said.  
  
Vincent was quite annoyed with this display and was about ready to give one of his rare speeches. He stood and began walking towards the water, hoping Tifa would finally take a hike. No such luck, she followed like a cocker spaniel.  
  
"Listen," Vincent said, whirling to Tifa. He grimaced internally as he realized he'd just unintentionally started a speech. "I don't care if you bring me to Costa del Sol, in fact, I like it here, yes. But after the defeat of Seph," Vincent paused, unsure if he wanted to say the name. "After the last battle," He decided. "I have a lot more on my mind. Too much in fact."  
  
"Then you need to tell someone!" Tifa bounced. "It'll help if you pour out your worries and sorrows to someone really special, who you trust with your whole life. It doesn't seem so much after that." Tifa explained.  
  
"And you think you're that special person, don't you?" Vincent asked, incredulously. "Obviously you don't know me very well. My burdens are mine, and mine alone."  
  
Tifa frowned and stuck out her tongue. "We all have problems, you know. We all have to carry burdens, but it doesn't seem to bother us. Only you. Do you know why?"  
  
Vincent almost answered. He almost stood up tall and said, 'Yes, Tifa. I know why. Because none of you foresaw that you'd kill your own son and couldn't prevent it. No one but me can know that pain.' But he wisely held his tongue.  
  
"It's because you are a selfish, heartless bastard, Vincent! That's why! You don't stop pining over Lucretia; you don't realize that she's gone! She's dead! Sephiroth killed her!"  
  
Vincent decided to inflict a considerable amount of damage before leaving this scene. "No!" He yelled. "Sephiroth didn't kill her! The JENOVA did! Don't you see? Sephiroth never killed anyone!"  
  
Tifa shut her mouth, confused. "We all saw him kill Aeris." She said finally, and with much difficulty. "How can you say that?"  
  
"He was ruled over by JENOVA." Vincent said simply. He raised his claw threateningly. "And don't you *ever* forget that." With that said, Vincent stormed away from the scene, completely repulsed by his sudden behavior. He'd never acted like that before, so why was he doing it now?  
  
*Because you killed your own son, idiot.* Vincent replied to himself. He quickly hid his face under his usual mask, hoping for the millionth time that he'd be forgiven. He blinked and a flash came, Tifa running up the sandy hill to tell Cloud of what Vincent had just said. Vincent shook his head to clear it and turned to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, the brunette was running up the hill to Cloud, who stood at the top, waiting.  
  
Vincent shuddered at the mirroring, the way he always did, and turned back to the waves. They had begun tossing as if to reflect the wild mood Vincent was in. Vincent had only cried once in his life, and that was when Lucretia died. He saw tears as pointless, as just a waste of time. Vincent couldn't understand why his eyes were burning like when Lucretia died.  
  
"I barely even knew him." Vincent whispered to himself. "Let alone love him." He kicked some sand up and watched it shower down around a small anthill. Some of the grains struck the ants and they curled up in pain, or maybe reflex. "But he WAS mine," Vincent reasoned. "Gods, I have no idea what I'm talking about. He's dead, along with Lucretia and there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
But something was nagging in the back of Vincent's mind. Was there nothing he could do? Was there some sort of Life Materia that could bring both Sephiroth and Lucretia back to life? And if there was, how could it be found?  
  
Vincent shook his head in dismay. There was no such thing as a Life Materia that could bring back people who were long dead. Period. Footsteps came from behind Vincent, but Vincent, knowing whom it was, did nothing.  
  
"Tifa's pretty upset." Cloud said softly. Vincent turned to look into the eyes of this 'Disturber of the Peace' and searched them carefully. Cloud's violet eyes reflected only sincerity and a youth that couldn't be quenched.  
  
"I know." Vincent replied, equally as soft, although his tone was expressionless. His red eyes looked off to the water again, glowing with dim light. He didn't seem to want to reply any further, so Cloud continued himself.  
  
"She says that you told her that Sephiroth didn't kill Aeris. They were best friends, if you recall." Cloud said.  
  
"I recall." Replied Vincent, more just to get Cloud to get it over with and go away than to spur him on.  
  
"Now, explain to me how this is possible. I'm not too sure about your reasoning. By all accounts, it's not really possible. If Sephiroth didn't kill Aeris, then who did? If it's painful to recite Vincent, I don't really care. Just tell me."  
  
Vincent gave a sidelong glance to Cloud. He wanted to tell him without really telling him. That would be best. If he could tell the story in minimal sentences with minimal expression, then Cloud would become vexed and leave. "I was a Turk." Vincent said, finally deciding on the words.  
  
Cloud sighed impatiently. "I know that. Tell me."  
  
"Well, Sephiroth was injected with JENOVA, and it became part of him. The JENOVA took over part of his soul and began controlling his actions and killed Aeris." Vincent explained. He closed his mouth. He was done speaking.  
  
"Then why are you so. . . guilty? You've never gotten this way before." Cloud wondered.  
  
Vincent, once again, wanted to give the most indirect answer possible. "I've killed a child." He said.  
  
Cloud tilted his head to the side and made a quizzical noise. "Sephiroth was no child." Cloud said, weighing the words carefully. "He was nearly thirty-two. So, by all accounts, he wasn't a child."  
  
Vincent shrugged. "That's not what I meant, but thank-you for taking it that way."  
  
Cloud looked shocked. "You mean you've killed a child? Was the family there?"  
  
"Yes." Vincent replied. Unspoken were the words, *I was the family.*  
  
"And that's why you're guilty? Ugh. You confuse me. So what are you going to do now?" Cloud dismissed.  
  
Vincent, once again, shrugged indifferently. He began walking towards the water and waved his claw about in a dismissive gesture. "Just go away now, Cloud. I need to think."  
  
Cloud nodded and ran across the sand to tell Tifa everything he'd heard.  
  
Vincent closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable flash of the future. Nothing came except the heavy lead-like weight that told him about an important event. Vincent didn't fight it, but lay down on the sand with his eyes closed. He hoped no one would disturb him; the sooner he got this weight off his head, the less cluttered he'd feel.  
  
The flash came, but it stayed bright and the unmistakable image of Chaos appeared. Chaos wasn't untamed or uncontrolled, but the person inside, Vincent, obviously had complete mastery over the form. Chaos began talking in a surprisingly human voice, telling Vincent that he had to 'tame the indigo beast.' Chaos repeated that until the image faded and Sephiroth began crawling out of the white mist, Lucretia curled up and crying in his arms. She was clawing at him, yelling that she didn't want to see Vincent, that he'd never forgive her for what she'd done: give up herself for science when she was obviously wanted elsewhere, particularly in Vincent's arms again. Sephiroth was wide-eyed and innocent looking. He kept repeating that he wanted to see 'Daddy'. He was absolutely begging Lucretia to take him to 'Daddy'. Lucretia shrieked and began exclaiming that Vincent was dead, while Sephiroth insisted he wanted to see 'Daddy' RIGHT NOW.  
  
The vision ended as quickly as it came.  
  
It inspired joy in Vincent, but at the same time dismay. If he had to 'tame the indigo beast' to see Sephiroth and Lucretia, then how long would it take him? He tried to recall every detail of the scene. Sephiroth had said 'Daddy'. Vincent gave a dry chuckle. Was he really 'Daddy'? What puzzled him was that Sephiroth was still thirty-one, the same age he died at, and Lucretia was also the same, but Sephiroth had a smaller voice. And Sephiroth had said 'Daddy'. Coming from that body it was almost laughable. But Vincent found nothing to laugh at.  
  
Somehow, he's find a way to revive both Sephiroth and Lucretia! 


End file.
